Promises Made, Promises Kept
by KayLee66
Summary: A follow up to Resolutions. My thoughts on why Buzz joined the reserves, and how it might relate to the storyline that's been mentioned for him in season five. He'll feature the most in this story, but Sharon and the whole team will also be involved.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again.

I'm writing this story as a sequel to Resolutions. From what James Duff has revealed about season five, Buzz is going to have a major storyline which will carry through the whole season. I'm really hoping it will relate to how his father and uncle were murdered. I have a feeling that's why he joined the reserves, and why he's gone on to train as a reserve detective.

I've set the story towards the end of season three, where his training is first mentioned, and made the best guess I can on Buzz's age. We know he was eleven when his father and uncle were killed, and the letter Casey reads at the end of You Have The Right To Remain Jolly comes from a folder dated 1987. So I've guessed that Buzz was born in 1976, while the date is a little tip of the hat to Phillip P Keene.

I hope you enjoy it.

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Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter One

It was a quiet morning, and such a rare respite from the horrors they had to deal with had left the LAPD's finest kinda - bored. From all the years he'd worked with them, Buzz knew where such down time could lead. For him, it meant clearing his latest stack of paperwork. For others, though - not so much.

Having finished his crossword, Provenza was now hounding Flynn through the squad room - no doubt trying to drag him into his latest get rich quick scheme. To a sensibly uninvolved observer, it made for great entertainment. Watching them set off on each other again, Buzz smiled, breathing a sigh of relief as they veered away from his desk, and back towards Flynn's.

 _'If whatever you need involves tracing a cellphone, Lieutenant, the answer is no.'_

Beyond the Flynn and Provenza Show, Mike Tao was explaining something to Amy. Whatever she'd asked him, she was starting to regret it. Meeting his eyes for a moment, her expression said it all.

" _Help me_."

Smiling back at her, Buzz toyed with the idea of coming gallantly to her rescue. As the others never tired of teasing him, he really was just an overgrown boy scout.

Then again, Amy Sykes could take care of herself. She was ex military, after all, while he was just a college kid who could work wonders with cameras. And if her question involved any kind of surveillance - well, chances were that she'd have two techno geeks on her hands, instead of just the one.

Besides, he had more serious things to think about. Glancing at the envelope beside him, Buzz picked it up, then stood and headed into the Media Room. Aside from excluding him from the distractions outside it, he was all the more grateful for the privacy that it now offered him. It was his own, personal sanctuary. A place of peace and quiet, where he could work and think without too many interruptions.

And, right now, he had an awful lot on his mind. Enough for his smile to fade a little as he closed the door behind him, leaning against it while he studied the envelope in his hand.

He'd found it two days ago, clearing out more of their old casefiles, and felt the same mixed emotions now as he'd felt then. Like every unsolved murder, those of his father and uncle were still open, for as long as they took to solve. When he'd seen its label, though - well, yes, it had felt so wrong. So disrespectful, to see their lives reduced to just two names, and a sequence of numbers.

Benjamin Watson. Jonathan Watson. Unsolved Casefile #10895/87/09/08

His father's life. His uncle's. Victims of senseless violence. Just one out of countless others, but still the act of human brutality that had torn his family apart.

Taking a deep breath that he suddenly needed, Buzz settled into his chair and, with the reverence they deserved, eased its contents onto his desk.

A police report. Crime scene photos that seemed so inferior against those that he could take today. Witness statements. All that stood to record that night in September, when a late birthday treat had turned to unthinkable horror.

Even now, years after it had happened, and months after he'd told Rusty - God, it still felt like yesterday. All of it. Everything. The shots. The screams. All the memories. Not just for what had happened on that awful night, either, but the dream that had taken root in that traumatized boy's mind.

When he grew up, he was going to be a detective. He was going to become the best detective in the world, and find the people who'd killed them.

Of course, that dream had taken a bit of a detour. Fate, and his mother's fears of losing him too, had seen to that. But with his fortieth birthday fast approaching, Buzz couldn't help but feel a niggling sense of - what? Resentment? Anger? Well, no, nothing so self destructive as that. No, it was more a sense of frustration, that he'd let his father and uncle down. He'd made them a promise to find the people who'd killed them - and he hadn't kept it.

A wry smile tugged at his mouth as he ran his fingers over his father's effects. Yes, he really was that overgrown boy scout, who hated the thought of breaking his promises.

Still, at least he'd kept the one he'd made to his mother. Found at least some way to join the police without risking his life. In its most elite team of detectives, too, and - God, yes, he'd learned so much from them. These colleagues, these friends, who'd become his second family.

So, then, not so much to regret after all. Those feelings of failure really had no grounding. And yet that childhood dream still lurked in the back of his mind. A teasing, chiding voice, telling him it wasn't too late. If he really wanted to try and find his father and uncle's killers, he had the means now, and at least some of the skills, to do it.

The motive, too? Well, yes, he had that as well. Enough to raise a whole new set of questions, that only one person could help him to answer.

Slipping his father's effects back into their envelope, he then left the Media Room, smiling once more at the ongoing deals and debates around him. When he reached the Captain's office, though, he paused. Was he really doing the right thing here? With everything that it might bring onto him, could he really do this?

For several seconds, Buzz fought with both his fears and his doubts. Then, before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door in front of him, and waited for her to call him inside.

"Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but... uh... do you have a minute?"


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for the reviews I've had for the first part of this story. I don't know how much more of it there'll be, since I'm still getting more ideas for it. But here's the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks again.

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Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter Two

Paperwork. The bane of every police captain's life, and Sharon Raydor was no exception. She'd gladly take any break from it that she could find. For it to be Buzz, though, was enough of a novelty for her to put it instantly aside - especially when the tone of his voice matched the seriousness on his face.

"Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but... uh... do you have a minute?"

"Yes, Buzz, of course. As many of them as you need."

Watching him settle into the chair opposite hers, Sharon masked her concern behind an encouraging smile. Even by his own standards, he'd been so quiet these last few days. From the way he kept twisting the ring on his hand, she had her first suspicions why. That envelope in his lap, too, just spoke for itself.

But she also knew how important it was, for him to tell her himself. So instead she kept quiet, silently noting the shadows in his eyes. Shadows that she hadn't seen for a very long time.

"Captain, I've... I've found the casefile for my father's murder. My uncle's too, and I... I need your advice, Captain, on how I can find the people who killed them."

Well, damn it. Mere suspicions were now cold, hard fact. If he hadn't had her attention before, he certainly had it now. From his expression alone, Sharon knew exactly what she had to say next. And how to say it.

"Of course, Buzz. What kind of advice did you have in mind?"

As she'd hoped, the tone in her voice had helped to settle him down again too. The storm of emotions in his eyes now dispersed, revealing the more familiar calmness below as Buzz passed his father's file across her desk.

"I know the best thing I can do right now is give what I've found to you. I know if I were to try and do this on my own, it... well, we both know it wouldn't end well. But more than anyone else in this team, Captain, you'll also understand why I _can't_ let this go."

Glancing down at what he'd just given her, Sharon nodded. Oh yes, she understood. She understood the plea in his eyes perfectly well.

If just in her mind, they became those of a terrified, traumatized boy. The child who'd once screamed and cried for what had happened to his daddy and uncle. Whose happily innocent world had been blown apart in front of him.

A lot had changed since then. The little boy had grown into an adult son that any mother, his own or otherwise, would be so very proud to have. And, to his even greater credit, he'd somehow kept that faith in human nature. If there was any goodness in the depravity they all had to deal with, she knew Buzz would always try to find it. A rare and valuable trait, that she hoped Rusty wouldn't just learn from his mentor, but inherit from him too.

Anyone who tried to exploit it, though, was in for one hell of a surprise. Buzz Watson was nobody's fool, and if you dared to treat him like one, you'd soon find a will of steel behind the kind hearted charm. So when she saw the same determination in his eyes, Sharon nodded, because - well, yes, she'd seen that stubbornness too. And you didn't make fun of that either.

"Yes, Buzz, I do. I understand everything that you must be feeling right now. Just tell me how I can help."

To her relief, he smiled just as warmly back at her. The terrified boy she'd once held in her arms changed back to the adult he'd become. Calm, controlled, ever sensibly practical - refusing to let all the emotions he'd be feeling right now cloud his judgement.

"I - I just want to be involved, Captain. Not just in the background, either, but _really_ involved, because I... well, at the very least, Captain, I owe them both that."

Again, she nodded as the last piece to this puzzle slipped into place. If her civilian crime scene recorder wanted more involvement in this highly personal case - yes, there _was_ a way to do it.

"Well, you'll know from all your time here that we often need to call on extra resources during our investigations. New recruits from the Academy, or teams of reserve officers, who have exactly the same powers of duty."

The smile came freely and easily now, releasing the humour that always lurked inside his eyes. Even if it came at his own expense - yes, that desert dry sense of humour was still so good for her to see.

"With all respect, Captain, I think I'm kinda past the Academy. For one thing, I doubt there'd be a uniform big enough to fit me. And it would be a bit of a morale crusher too, having others in my class who'd be young enough to be my own kids."

A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps. He wasn't _that_ old, but the thought still made both of them laugh. And the more he thought about it, the more viable that second option became. Leaning forward, his eyes brightened in its hope, and Sharon knew she'd just secured him his most longed for dream.

"The reserves, though... I'd still be suitable for that? Even at... you know, my age?"

God, now he sounded like Provenza! And she really hoped he'd taken that splutter of laughter as the cough it had so quickly become.

"Oh yes, Buzz, absolutely. You already have a wealth of skills and experience, that would stand you in excellent stead. You're one of the most astute observers I've ever met. And once you've completed your training, and spent the required time out on patrol... well, I'm sure Sergeant Davis in the detectives' division would be delighted to have you."

It was everything he'd needed her to say, and the pure joy on his face was a sight to savour. Trust her Buzz, though, to still find something to fret about.

"And I could do all of that, Captain, without... you know, leaving here?"

Following his eyes to the squad room outside, her smile widened. For 'here', of course, he meant 'them.' The second family, whose support he'd need now, like never before. Still watching them too, Sharon nodded - the warmth of her smile enough to convey her pride in his loyalty.

"Yes, Buzz, you can. It would be hard work, of course, with hours of study involved, but... well, like I said, you already have years of experience to your advantage. And you've _never_ been one to shy away from hard work."

Oh yes, she'd meant that last part too. Before he even started it, she knew he'd give this training every length of time and effort that it would need. And yet, one last concern for what it might finally lead him to still betrayed itself in his eyes.

"The thing is, Captain, if we _were_ to find them, could... could I stay objective enough to stay focussed? Not let my personal feelings cloud my judgement?"

Ah yes, the biggest question of all. One she'd already guessed was coming, and that she already knew how to answer.

"Knowing you as well I do, Buzz, I'd say you'd be fine. I can't see that being a problem at all. Just know that if you want to go ahead with this training, I will support you, every step of the way. We _all_ will."

She'd stressed that one word for a reason, that a suddenly tenser smile still acknowledged. As things stood, only she and Rusty knew the awful secret that he'd carried through so much of his life. Now, he had to reveal and re-live it, all over again.

Glancing again through the blinds of her office, Buzz nodded. Rising to his feet, everything he needed to say came through his eyes.

Right. Let's get this over with.

As she walked around to join him, the squeeze on his arm was meant to be just between them. In a room full of detectives, though, such a gesture wasn't going to be missed. Starting with Amy, and moving on through Tao, Sanchez, Flynn and Provenza, their curiosity was turning to puzzled concern.

"Hey, is Buzz still in with the Captain? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's been pretty quiet all morning."

"Though with Buzz, it's hard to tell the difference."

"Well, whatever they're talking about, it looks pretty intense, so... yeah, I'd say something's up."

"And whatever it is, people, I believe we're about to find out."

In Provenza-speak: make yourselves busy. Just hard to do when you had so little to do. Instead, they watched as casually as they could as Sharon led Buzz back out to join them.

Like the hand on his shoulder, the protectiveness in her eyes prompted another round of puzzled glances. Whatever he was about to tell them was clearly serious. And as far as Julio was concerned, it was all tied in with the envelope in his hand.

"You've asked for a transfer."

A perfectly reasonable question, of course, if asked a bit too bluntly for his Captain's liking. Buzz, though, still had to smile as he answered it.

"No, Julio, not quite. But with the Captain's approval, I _am_ applying to join the reserves."

The reactions were unanimous this time. Surprise quickly gave way to proud grins, and hugs, and more formal handshakes. And a mere hint of the teasing hell to come.

"Reserve Officer Watson! Yeah, that has a certain ring to it."

"Deputy Chief Watson sounds even better."

"Yeah, if you get anyone called Holmes in your class, you'll have the rest of 'em beat."

"Jeez, if this is about getting the BuzzMobile jazzed up with lights and sirens, you just had to say."

Beyond all the teasing, though, a far more serious question remained. And since Julio was clearly keeping quiet this time, it was left to Flynn to ask it instead.

"Any reason, Buzz, for why you're doing it now?"

Ah, such a simple question, with so much significance behind it. And, God, how the hell was he going to explain it? Another squeeze on his shoulder, and a now completely serious circle of faces around him, gave him all the encouragement he needed.

"Yes, Lieutenant, there is. You... uh... you all know my father died when I was still a kid."

That wasn't quite true, of course. That revelation had come before Amy Sykes had joined them. Luckily, she had the tact and sense to keep quiet, and wait for him to continue.

"What I haven't told you, and what I need to tell you all now, is how it happened. And why I'm going to need _all_ of you to help me resolve it."


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the next chapter, as the team reacts to what Buzz has told them. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed the story so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

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Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter Three

"God, _damn it_!"

Rarely had so few words conveyed so much emotion. Not just for the person who'd spoken them, but the four colleagues who could only nod in equally shaken agreement.

Still struggling to believe what he'd just heard, Flynn slid his arm around Buzz's shoulders. Meeting his eyes again, he now understood the sadness he'd often seen there when he'd had to document an especially bad crime scene. That's where most of his anger had come from - against himself, that he'd never thought to ask him why.

Every crime scene was bad, of course. Even if nothing was said, every one of them still left its mark, but - God, he'd never thought that another could strike as close to home as this. The last time he'd experienced such senseless tragedy had been for Julio.

And now this. Buzz - their kind hearted techie who he still saw as such a gullible kid brother - had suffered the same, unthinkable horror. For Julio too, of course, it had hit especially hard. So when the others recovered enough to offer their own gestures of comfort, it didn't surprise any of them that the Mexican detective led the line.

As it had to be, whatever he said was spoken in a private whisper. A mix of English and Spanish - returned in kind through an equally emotional smile.

"Thank you, Julio. Tu tambien."

For Mike Tao, this bombshell had brought back his own memories. That seemingly mundane morning, when Buzz had saved Chief Johnson's life. Lauded by everyone else for his quick thinking courage, only he'd seen the impact of what Buzz had seen on his monitor.

For several minutes afterwards, he'd just sat on the floor by his desk. Arms locked around his knees, he'd stared blankly around him, too shocked and shaken to move. To more medically trained eyes, he'd shut down so completely that Mike had pretty much hauled him through all the backslapping praise into her office. Behind its quickly closed blinds, only he'd seen their hero of the hour fall apart inside it, in tears that no words of comfort could stop.

As he'd done then, he now placed his hands on Buzz's shoulders, subtly checking him over. As he'd done then, Buzz nodded, managing a shaky smile as more comfort followed. From Flynn this time, who'd spoken for them all before, and who spoke again for all of them now.

"If those bastards are still out there, Buzz, we'll find them."

Remembering that wasn't really his decision to make, he glanced at Sharon. After such a rocky start to their relationship, the last thing he wanted to do now was undermine her authority. But to his relief, and everyone else's, she was smiling back at him - any annoyance she might have felt kept to a gently teasing rebuff.

"Thank you, Andy. I couldn't have put it better myself."

As she'd hoped, they were all smiling now. Even Buzz who, for once, was grateful to be the centre of attention. Like all the best families, they'd all closed ranks around him. Flynn's hand still rested protectively on his shoulder, Mike Tao's on the other. For that alone, Sharon felt a depthless pride. This was her team, this was her family, at its absolute best.

Then she grew serious again, as she had to do - her voice set with the same determination.

"Along with any new cases we need to investigate, I want every resource we have to go into this one. Now, unfortunately, there isn't much for us to go on, but -"

"Oh, don't worry, Captain. Whatever we have, we'll make every bit of it count."

This time, it was Provenza who'd spoken for her. And, again, he'd done so with the utmost respect, more than earning the grateful glance that she cast towards him. Taking that as his cue, he then smiled at Buzz, nodding towards the envelope he still held in his hand.

"So, now... let's see what we have here."

"Not much, I'm afraid," Buzz sighed, sobering too now as the best chance he had to find his father and uncle's killers gathered around its scant amount of evidence. "Just a police report, these photos, and some witness statements."

Studying them too, his smile faded back to a disheartened frown. His voice grew even softer.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I - I just wish it was more."

"Well, whatever it is, Buzz, and however many of them we have, a lead is a lead," Provenza reminded him - adding another cheering point that all of them, and Buzz especially, now needed. "And as you might recall, soon to be reserve officer Watson, we've solved cases with just a phone number, and a kindly sacrificed Catfish."

While his Captain and newest colleague wondered what the hell he was on about, everyone else was smiling again. If ruefully, Buzz was smiling the most of all, his eyes bright with gratitude for this much happier memory.

"Not to mention _my car_."

For Sharon and Amy, it was a story they'd enjoy at a more appropriate time. But it would take second place to the two unsolved murders that had dropped so unexpectedly into their lives.

For Buzz, of course, its re-opened investigation was going to affect him most of all. And as she watched him relate to Flynn what he'd seen that night, Sharon felt as much concern for him as she did an immeasurable pride.

Still in these mixed emotions, she glanced at Provenza. Her once fiercest critic, who'd become one of her most trusted allies.

"I don't think I'll ever be more proud of him as I am right now. Or so proud of all of you. But with such little evidence, Buzz must know the chances of us finding these two gunmen aren't good. And for everything this will bring back for him, Lieutenant, everything he's about to take on, I need to know that he'll be all right."

Standing quietly beside her, Provenza nodded. There were times when Sharon Raydor needed him as a second in command, and others when she needed his friendship even more. And on such occasions, just like this one, their usual formalities fell by the wayside.

"He will, Sharon. He's our boy, and we'll all get him through this. And you, more than anyone else here, should know there's no such thing as a lost cause."

Following his guiding nod, her smile also returned. With perfect timing, Rusty had arrived, frowning at the sombre mood around him. With Buzz and an old case file at its centre, he didn't need to be the son of a police captain to work out its cause.

His father's murder. His uncle's. The personal tragedy that Buzz had confided to him. And now something had happened, so that everyone knew, and - oh, God.

Not sure how to react, Rusty watched his friend and mentor in awkward silence. Their first meeting hadn't exactly gone well. He'd mocked Buzz's name, and had that insult thrown right back at him. But that animosity had changed into one of his first real friendships. And when a friend was scared, or upset, or re-living something so awful as watching your father and uncle die... well, you didn't stand around staring at them. Even if it was just to ask if they were okay, you tried to help.

"Hey, Buzz? Are you... uh... are you okay?"

God, that question always sounded so dumb, especially in situations like this. But that didn't stop Buzz from smiling at him - trying to be a friend to him in return as he said the words that all of them, not just Rusty, were so glad to hear.

"Yes, Rusty, I'm fine. I've found the file on my father and uncle... and I'm joining the reserves to help find the robbers who killed them, so... yeah, I'm okay. I'm going to be just fine."


	4. Chapter 4

So, everyone now knows about Buzz's father and uncle. But will his mother be so supportive for his decision? Well, he's about to find out. But first, he's going to enjoy just a bit of self indulgence.

Thanks again for these reviews, I really appreciate them!

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Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter Four

Buzz studied his mirrored reflection, and watched it frown back at him. He'd need a haircut before his first class that weekend. And he was going to have to cut back on those portions of pizza. And donuts. And those 'study burgers' with Rusty. Those maple and pecan pastries, too, and - aww, just anything with a calorie count in triple figures.

Still, a few weeks on water and rabbit food would be worth it. Tugging his shirt straight, the frown changed back through a self conscious smile, and into an all out grin. However snugly they fit, these clothes he'd spent the last half hour trying on, taking off, then trying on again were - God, yes, they were everything he'd hoped they would be.

Not just clothes, but a uniform. The uniform he'd dreamed about wearing since he was eleven years old. And if he said so himself - damn, it suited him! Complementing his height, it made him look even taller, while its close-to-black blue brought out the paler shade of his eyes.

Most of all, though, it was the badge on the left side of his chest. The same badge as his SID equivalent, but whose shield now gave him the status he'd once thought he'd never achieve. From police civilian to what he'd always, _always_ , wanted to be.

Los Angeles Police Department. Police Officer.

Still fingering its outline, he just stood and savoured this moment. He'd done it. Dear God, he'd done it! Assuming he didn't screw up on his training, it was really going to happen.

Little Buzzie Watson was going to become a real, bona fide police officer.

As his eyes moved further downwards, the frown returned as Buzz poked his stomach. Hmm. Yeah, not so much of the 'little' there. Still, the fitness program that he'd set up with Amy and Julio would soon trim him down. Self defence from their ex military detective, and body strength from the Mexican who could lift a man twice his size without breaking a sweat.

Ah, yes. Something else for him to remember. Once this training was over, give Julio back his shoes. And since that wouldn't be happening for the next six months - yes, he'd better add that reminder to his cellphone, so his jogging buddy didn't need to do it himself.

Would he even want them back, though, with all those miles of running and gym work inside them? Wrinkling his nose at the thought, Buzz deleted that reminder, and added a new one for the next day instead.

Running shoes. And make sure they _really_ fit.

"Buzzie? You nearly done in there?"

Ah. Another reality check that made him grin once more as he gave himself one last check over. When they'd been kids, it had always been Casey who needed that motherly yell to get up, or get out of the bathroom, or get ready for school. Now it was big brother's turn, and - yeah, come on, Buzzie. If you keep her waiting much longer, you'll get yourself grounded.

Taking a deep breath that he suddenly needed, Buzz opened the door to his bedroom, and stepped through it into the living room of his apartment. And as his mother's head turned towards him, he braced himself, for how she'd react to the sight she'd once begged him not to pursue.

"Well, mom... what do you think?"

As only a mother could, Eleanor Watson scrutinized her son from the top of his head to his impossibly shiny shoes. Eyes that he'd inherited narrowed and widened in turn, lingering on the badge on his chest. Her mouth opened, then closed again as her inspection continued. And while he'd expected this reaction to a point - well, yes, this silence that came with it was starting to get a bit unsettling.

The greatest dread he'd had was that she'd disapprove, or that she wasn't quite so 'okay' with his decision as she'd made out. The thought of upsetting her was more than he could bear, and... uh oh. Her mouth was pressed just a bit too tightly together. Her eyes were starting to glisten, and - _damn it_!

Everything he'd waited so long to realize threatened to implode around him as Buzz knelt at his mother's side. Those tears were starting to show for real now, and unless he could stop them, like right now - damn it, he'd start to do the same.

"Oh, mom, no... no, please, don't... you - you know if you start to cry, I will too..."

He would, too. When she'd taken him to see Bambi, he'd bawled so hard she'd been asked to leave the theater. Casey still gave him hell about it, too, as only a kid sister could. And those nature programs he watched now? If any of them included the deaths of a mother deer, he was a goner.

At this moment, though, all Buzz cared about was _his_ mom. If tearfully, she was still gazing up at him. Then, to his infinite relief, she started to smile. To his greater surprise, she then rose from the couch and stood in front of him - still so tiny against him, but so proud of him right now that none of that mattered.

"Oh, just look at you! All so tall, and strong, and handsome, and... oh, Buzzie! Where's my little boy gone? When did you get all grown up?"

Already hugging her close, Buzz rested his cheek on top of her head - drawing as much comfort from her as she was gaining from him. Then he smiled, answering those questions only a mother could ask with the same teasing affection.

"Mom, I've been grown up since I hit that spurt in tenth grade. You remember that? You'd bought me all those clothes for me, then had to go get them all two sizes bigger."

As the smile on her face faltered, so the same thoughts and memories made his fade too. Damn it, he'd forgotten that. All growth spurts aside, that's when the arguments had started, as the fears of a terrified mother had clashed against the dreams of her firstborn child.

She'd won in the end, of course. Finally convinced him to find and follow another dream instead. Now, those two choices seemed fated to come together. And as she saw the determination in his eyes, Eleanor knew there was nothing she could say this time to change it.

Glancing at the ring on his hand, she felt the same call of its destiny, and silently accepted it. Reaching up to stroke his face, she finally said the words he needed so much to hear.

"You really want to do this, don't you? And even if I had the right to try and change your mind, Buzzie... no, I can't do that. This is the dream you've always wanted. And I love you too much to deny it to you any longer, but... please, Buzz, promise me you'll be careful. I know you can't promise me you won't get hurt, but just promise me you won't take any stupid risks, and just... just keep yourself safe."

Easier said than done, of course, especially when you wore such a distinctive uniform. But as he then gently reminded her, he wouldn't be facing those dangers alone.

"Mom, I'll be fine. You know I've never taken a stupid risk in my life, and I have no intention of starting now. And you've met the people I work with, they're the best police team in the city. They've kept me safe for the last nine years. Believe me, they'll keep me safe now. I promise you, mom, they _will_ keep me safe."

Assurances he'd needed to make, and that she'd needed to hear. Another promise for him to keep. Hugging her close once more, Buzz knew it was one he could never allow himself to break.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, here's the next chapter! It's in two separate parts, as Buzz finds some aspects of his training will be a lot harder for him than others.

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Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter Five

"Whooooooaaaaa!"

*THUD*

"Owww!"

Landing hard on his back, Buzz waited for the ceiling above him to stop spinning, and the air to return to his lungs. Not for the first time, and no doubt not the last, he really had to ask himself.

What the _hell_ was I thinking?

The answer, of course, was still the same. It was by _his_ choice. _His_ decision to fulfil his long held dream, and become a real police officer. He just hadn't expected its physical training to be quite this painful. All of which lent a certain irony to all the assurances he'd given his mother that he wouldn't live to regret it.

"I promise you, mom, they _will_ keep me safe."

Yeah, right. While everyone else had given him all the support he could ask for, Amy Sykes seemed equally determined to beat him to a pulp.

Yes, this was her idea of defence class, and... yes, damn it, it was getting to be embarrassing. He stood several inches over her, with all the physical strength to match. Yet for the third time running, she'd tossed his sorry ass as if it were salad. And if he'd had any kind of ego before this latest session, it had been well and truly thumped out of him now.

A shadow fell over him, and he bit back a groan of dismay. Uh oh. Drill Sergeant Sykes was back. And from that nicely military sarcasm, she was less than impressed with her newest recruit.

"So, Officer Watson, you nice and comfy down there? Settling down for a nap?"

Glaring up at her, Buzz was all ready with an equally witty comeback. Then he saw her stance over him - hands on hips, all kickass business - and kept meekly quiet as he sat up instead. He'd been brought up to respect every woman that he ever met, to never raise his voice to them, let alone his hands, but - oh gosh, he was sorely tempted now.

And that, of course, was the problem. Why everything that Amy was trying to teach him had ended up with him sailing into that damn crash mat. For fear of hurting her, his upbringing was still holding him back. But now he needed to put all that behind him, and rely instead on the instincts that could one day save his life.

All well and good for a woman who'd had to fight her own battles against prejudice, and the dangers of military service. Kinda less so for an overgrown boy scout who'd never had to defend himself before, let alone fire a gun.

Still, Flynn and Provenza would guide him through that greatest test of his courage. Right now, though, it was basic self defence. And from the way Buzz shook his head as he rose to his feet, Amy knew he was getting as frustrated as she was.

Still, when it was properly channelled, such things could be made to work for you, not against. So could a good old fashioned pep talk. A few gentle home truths, with a more encouraging hand on a tension-tight shoulder.

"Look, this is no place for boy scout manners. When you're out on the street, a five foot woman on coke or meth can be just as strong as a six foot two inch cop. And ten times more dangerous, because you've no idea what they're going to do. So stop seeing me as a little old lady you'd help across the street, Buzz, and start seeing me as a potentially deadly opponent... okay?"

Still stooped with his hands on his knees, Buzz just stared at her. His face said it all. He was tired, sore, and _seriously_ fed up. But under a sweat-mussed fringe, his eyes still twinkled.

"Fine. Can I just wait until there's just _one_ of you to aim at?"

Grinning too now, Amy held up her hands in equally playful surrender, before curling them into a 'bring it on' dare.

"Okay, Buzz-Munch. Give me your best shot."

Widening for a moment, Buzz's eyes then narrowed to a baleful glare. Damn if he shouldn't have told her how much he hated that nickname. He'd endured it all through Junior High, never daring to retaliate. So, thirty years later - oh yeah, he had a great supply of 'I'll-get-you-for-that' all set to go.

When Amy came at him this time, he was ready, neatly dodging the counter move she'd used to take him down. Instead, he twisted his body around, just as she'd done to him, and flipped her over his back - watching with just the tiniest grin of satisfaction as she took her first dive of the day into the crash-mat of shame.

And would he pay for that triumphant little "oh, _yes_!" in their next round? More than likely. Did he care right now? Not at all. Because Amy was smiling, nodding with the same approval as she rose to her feet.

"Yeah, that's better. Much better. Now, let's try it again. Oh, and Buzz-Munch? Just don't do this when you're helping little old ladies across the street, okay?"

* * *

Well, this was a moment that Buzz never thought he'd see. Oh, he'd seen guns before. Just about every kind ever made. But only at crime scenes, or on his monitors, or through the lens of his camera. Never like this.

For the first time in his life, he held its deadliness in his hands. A Glock 22 handgun. Lighter than he'd expected, and cool to the touch. Oddly beautiful too, so exquisitely engineered. The technician in him had to admire its efficiency. How perfectly it had been made to serve its purpose.

To either defend or to kill, it fired bullets. And, all too often, he'd seen what those tiny rounds of metal could do to the human body. Yes, just after his eleventh birthday, he'd seen first hand, real up close and personal, how horrifically deadly a gun could be.

Standing quietly behind him, Flynn and Provenza traded glances. Both of them knew the memories that would be playing out through his mind. Like an old horror movie that scared the pants off you, but that you couldn't stop yourself from watching.

Except for Buzz Watson, the horrors had been real. His father and uncle had been gunned down in front of him. A personal tragedy that his colleagues had only recently been told about. And for two of them, the sight of him staring down at the gun in his hands brought all their concern for him back to the surface.

For Andy Flynn, it was unsettling enough for him to reach towards Buzz's shoulder, all ready to reassure him. But then his hand drew back again as Provenza mouthed across a silent assurance of his own.

 _'Just give him time, Flynn. Let him settle_. _He'll know when he's ready_.'

Wise words as always from the team's oldest member. And for all their banter and bickering, Flynn still respected him enough to nod his agreement.

Buzz thought the world of him too. He thought the world of both of them, these two Lieutenants who'd listened to his greatest concern over his training, and who'd volunteered to help him before he'd even had to ask. And if Provenza had been his surrogate father sometimes, then Flynn had been just as much his uncle. A thought that made him smile now as Buzz took a deep breath, then finally turned to face them.

"Okay, so... uh... I need to hit that orange area, right?"

"Not quite, Buzz. First, you need to make sure you cover the basics," Provenza reminded him through one of his gentler, fatherly smiles as he nodded to the tray beside them. "First rule of the firing range, Buzz. Eyes and ears."

Pulling a face at his over eagerness, Buzz slid his goggles and muffs into place - the question he'd been about to ask answered by a soft click through his ears. Ah. That explained the instructor's radio in Provenza's hand. Another comforting thought that reminded him that he wasn't facing this challenge alone.

Closer in terms of their height, it was Flynn who then nudged him forward, gently guiding and correcting his stance, while Provenza explained his instructions through his radio.

"Okay, Buzz, now set your feet slightly apart, use your left hand to support your right... just angle your elbows a bit more, that's it... that'll lessen the recoil, and... okay, Buzz, that's it, you got it right there, now just relax... breathe, relax, just slow and gentle here, just squeeze that trigger..."

Standing beside him, Flynn met his still apprehensive glance with an encouraging smile on his face, and silent inspiration in his eyes.

'... _and visualize that target as the bastard who killed your father_.'

He hadn't said that last part aloud, of course. Contrary to so many opinions, he wasn't that insensitive. Then again, he hadn't needed to. He'd seen the exact same thought reflect itself on Buzz's face.

Narrowing in concentration, his eyes latched onto the target in front of them. Set their sights. Adjusted their focus, kept adjusting them as five bullets ripped through it.

Despite all his guidance and preparations, his eyes were still wide as Buzz watched Flynn discharge his weapon. When he saw how much his hands were shaking, they widened even more.

Luckily, the Lieutenant hadn't just anticipated this reaction, he knew how to respond to it too.

"It's okay, Buzz. I was just the same my first time too. Don't worry, it's just your body's natural reaction to those recoils. It's okay, you did fine."

"Yes, Buzz, you certainly did. For a first attempt, that's an excellent score," Provenza agreed, offering him an equally proud smile as he handed him his target.

Still staring down at it, Buzz just nodded. In terms of accuracy - yes, he'd done fine. Every one of those bullets had found its mark, No orange target, though, but - well, that would come with time. Practice would make perfect, and - yeah. Wasn't _that_ a thought to keep him awake at night? Little wonder, then, that his voice had suddenly turned even quieter than usual.

"Yeah, I - I guess so, and... does it... you know, get any easier?"

"With practice, Buzz... yes, it does," Provenza nodded through another gentle smile as he patted his shoulder. "But that's enough for today. You've done what you needed to do. Now, let's get you to that tall skinny latte we all know you need."

"Yeah, if they have them, we'll even treat you to a big bowl of salad," Flynn agreed, grinning even more at the glare that Buzz threw towards him.

If a bit too late - yeah, telling them about his new diet and exercise regime hadn't been such a good idea. God, they were going to give him hell for it now, and - ah. Maybe not.

"Or Flynn could give you one of his old health shakes."

"Oh, you're just _never_ gonna let me forget that, are you?"

"For all the grief you cause me? Absolutely not."

"Hey, when have I _ever_ caused you grief?"

"If I had enough years on my life expectancy, Flynn, I would gladly tell you."

Caught in the middle of this latest battle of bickering, Buzz just shook his head, smiling with the same affection for its comforting familiarity. He was equally grateful for the two hands that settled onto his shoulders as they left the range. His arms were aching, and his heart still pounding, but - yes, he'd done it. He'd overcome the greatest mental hurdle that he'd face in his training. And to hell with the diet that he'd take up again tomorrow. Somewhere in Diego's Coffee Shop, there was a blueberry muffin with his name on it.

Behind him, though, Flynn and Provenza traded more serious glances. In the space of an hour, their kind hearted techie had lost a bit more of the innocence that formed so much of his character. Both just hoped he wouldn't lose it completely.


	6. Chapter 6

Here's the last chapter for this story. Depending on whether it ties in with Buzz's storyline in season five, I might be adding a sequel. I hope you've enjoyed it!

* * *

"...and graduating with top marks in his class, Reserve Officer Francis Watson..."

Halfway across the stage to shake Chief Taylor's hand, Buzz couldn't resist a glance down to the audience alongside. It seemed his team was cheering and applauding louder than everyone else put together, and he thought the world of them for it. He really did. But the smirk on Andy Flynn's face as he mouthed out his real name kinda dented the moment.

' _Fraaan_ - _cissss_.'

What the lieutenant found so funny about a perfectly normal name still escaped him. Still, it could have been worse. 'Francis' he could live with. 'Reserve Officer Watson' he could definitely live with. 'Buzz-Munch' not so much. But as his eyes fell on another face in the crowd, he didn't even care about that.

With Sharon on one side, and Provenza the other, his mother had never looked so happy, or more proud of him. This was as much her day of celebration as it was his. Front row seat, too. Ah, yes. The benefits of working for such a highly regarded Captain.

By the time he'd waded through a sea of handshakes and backslaps, his face ached under its broadest, happiest smile. God, he'd dreamed about this day for so long, and he was going to savour every second of it.

Duty and fate, though, had other ideas. And it all started with the muted vibration of Sharon Raydor's phone - the deepening frown on her face enough to make Flynn's do the same.

"Aww, you've gotta be kidding! Couldn't LA's dirtbags just give us this day off?"

"No, Andy, I'm afraid not. And we all have a special interest in this one," Sharon told him quietly, nodding to where Buzz was introducing his mother to Chief Taylor. "It's a shooting at an ATM. A robbery homicide."

They were all frowning now. Provenza, Amy, Julio, and Tao - all turning as one to watch Buzz roll his eyes at yet another 'aww, mom!' tale of his childhood. And fate now intervened again, as he noticed the seriousness on their faces. He'd worked with them all long enough to know exactly what it meant.

Leaving his mother in Chief Taylor's safe and charming hands, he strode across to join them, all thoughts of his graduation party forgotten as a far greater duty took them over.

"Captain? If you need me, my field kit's in the car."

Flynn, at least, had to smile at that. A fondly proud grin, for the overgrown boy scout who came prepared for every situation - including his graduation day. Sharon, though, was still torn between two callings. The best crime scene recorder she'd ever known stood in front of her, but to call him to this one, today of all days - no, she couldn't.

"It's okay, Captain, if you need me, I'm good to go. I'd just ask if you, or Chief Taylor, could take care of my mom."

Now she smiled, even more proudly than Flynn and Provenza. Okay, apparently, she could. From her approving nod, Buzz smiled back at her before returning to where his mother now realized something had happened. A quick explanation and arrangements later, he hugged her tightly, nodded his gratitude for Chief Taylor's pat on his shoulder, before running to where the rest of his team stood waiting for him.

Still watching him as they ran to the parking lot, all Eleanor Watson could see of her son was a blond head, surrounded by five identically uniformed shirts. With or without Sharon's reassuring hand on her shoulder, it told her all she needed to know.

Whatever he's going to face out there, they'll keep him safe.

By the time they arrived at the crime scene, of course, all possible threats had been identified and removed. To Flynn's relief, the greatest danger of all hadn't just been caught, either, he was also safely in custody. Just the thing that an anxious Captain, and even more anxious mother, would want to know as quickly as he'd done.

"Yeah, Sharon, he's fine, he's... uh, still documenting the scene, and... yeah, believe me, we're all keeping a real close eye on him."

God, weren't they just? Between Mike Tao and Louie Provenza, their surveillance co-ordinator was under the closest scrutiny himself. Quiet words of encouragement here, heartening pats on his shoulder there. A sad but grateful smile told all of them how much they were appreciated.

Turning back to his call, Flynn then gave his Captain the more professional news she'd also be waiting to hear.

"And we've got the shooter too, Captain. An off duty Marine managed to take him out before he could hit anyone else. He's on his way to booking now."

Glancing through the blinds of her office, to where Chief Taylor was giving Eleanor the full tour through the squad room, Sharon breathed another sigh of relief. The murder board was clear for now, but it would soon hold photos of horror and tragedy that no one, least of all a victim of it herself, should ever see.

Luckily, her escort had realized that himself, and had now taken her out into the hallway. For that alone, Sharon felt slightly happier as she listened to the rest of Flynn's call. They had their suspect, and when her team returned, they'd have their evidence against him too. Then they'd just need to draw out his confession. And time would tell if she'd deal him into a conviction, because - well, she sure as hell wasn't in a deal making mood right now.

When she entered Interview One, those feelings hadn't changed. If anything, she felt even more contempt for the dregs of humanity who sat leering back at her.

If Buzz Watson was the poster boy for all the world's goodness, then Eduardo Costa was the sludge you'd yearn to clean off your shoes. Barely into his forties, years of drugs abuse had aged him to the brink of his grave. Judging by the disgust on Julio Sanchez's face, that was exactly where he longed to put him.

Within the restraints of rights and processes, he sat down instead beside his Captain - a private glance between them conveying a mutual understanding. For now, at least, that volatile temper was safely under control. He was going to need every bit of her calming influence to keep it that way.

If in a different place, Flynn and Provenza felt much the same. While Amy and Tao worked through their evidence, they'd joined Buzz in the Media Room. And with his mother still safely on the longest tour in LAPD's history, their King Of The Cameras could set to work at what he did best.

He'd already collected all the footage that had caught their latest case, in all its tragic detail. Another innocent victim, lost to those few seconds of heartless violence. Now he sat with Flynn and Provenza, watching their prime suspect enjoy his fifteen minutes of fame.

He was, too. Slouched in his seat, at least until Julio glared him into sitting more respectfully upright, he was arrogance personified, To everyone else, from his interrogators to those who sat watching his interview, he was the lowest of the low. Even to Buzz, this creep was the scum of the earth.

Then he saw it. Eyes trained to spot the tiniest, most trivial detail saw a glint of silvery metal against the swirl of a faded tattoo.

"Oh, my God."

Sitting bolt upright in his chair, Buzz zoomed in on Eduardo Costa's right hand. Closer, then closer still, to the highest magnification he could reach. Oblivious to the puzzled glances beside him, he sat staring at the monitor in front of him. Leaned forward to make sure, because he had to be sure. Then he swallowed, hard, as he whispered the impossible.

" _Oh_ , _my God_."

He'd gone pale enough now for both Flynn and Provenza to guess its cause. Flynn was the first to squeeze his shoulder, his suspicions for what Buzz had seen already in his eyes.

"Buzz? Hey, kiddo, what is it? Have you recognized him? Is this one of the dirtbags who shot your dad and uncle?"

Still staring at his monitors, Buzz didn't respond. He just sat there, frozen in shock and memories, not even reacting to the nickname that Flynn had given him when they'd started working together. Finally, though, he came out of his daze enough to glance into two sets of anxious eyes. His voice, when he finally found it, barely made it above a whisper.

"I'm not sure, Lieutenant, I - I think he might be. That ring he's wearing, it's a squadron ring, for the 58th Fighters. Only six were ever made, and one... one of them belonged to my uncle. It - It had his initials engraved inside."

They were all staring at it now. The emblem of courage and duty that was so glaringly out of place on this drug dealer's finger. To Flynn's eyes, too, he was just the kind of bastard who'd steal the sickest kind of trophy from his victim, and still flaunt it nearly thirty years later.

For Buzz, of course, it held a completely different significance. It was the ring that his favourite and only uncle had promised to give his favourite and only nephew. To see it now, on the hand of his possible killer, was more than he could take.

Luckily, both Flynn and Provenza had sensed what was about to happen - the latter gently guiding him to the door behind them, while Flynn picked up the microphone that connected them to Sharon and Julio's earpieces.

"Captain, he's wearing what Buzz thinks could be his uncle's old squadron ring. His initials were engraved inside it, and... Captain, this could be him."

Without betraying any response, Sharon nodded, then glanced at Julio. She knew he'd have heard it too. The cold case that had touched all their lives had just been blown wide open, with evidence that would have left the person closest to it absolutely devastated.

And now he'd need to identify it. Damn it, like he hadn't been through enough. Little wonder, then, that the calm in her voice contrasted completely to the pure loathing in her eyes.

"That's a very unusual ring you have there. May I see it?"

A crucial, and perfectly reasonable question - but one still met with a suspicious, defiant scowl.

"Why?"

"Because she's asking you," Julio said quietly, matching him glare for glare through an even softer, deadlier growl. "A lot more nicely than I would."

"Yes, I did," Sharon agreed, her smile still charming, the steel in her eyes anything but. "Or if you prefer, I could ask Detective Sanchez here to take it off for you."

In a challenge of glaring eyes, there'd only ever be one winner. And there was enough menace in Julio's to make his opponent's drop in defeat as slowly, grudgingly, he pulled the ring off his hand.

A quick glance over it told Sharon all she needed to know, while another to her side raised another cause for concern. If ever there a moment when 'Scary Sanchez' had to keep his temper, this was it, because... yes, right now, she really had another place to be.

"Detective Sanchez... please stay here while I verify this ring's history, and go check on our... witnesses."

Legally speaking, she'd hadn't lied. Yes, they _did_ have witnesses, to the murder they were investigating now. It was another witness, though, to another murder from another time that filled Sharon's thoughts now, as she glanced back at their main suspect for both - taking at least some satisfaction that the smirk on his face had now slipped away. Yes, nothing like implying the most damning kind of evidence to wipe out such arrogance. And wasn't there just a touch of irony, that the softness of Julio's voice made it vanish completely, into a stare of real fear for the menace below it?

"Yes, ma'am. It would be my pleasure."

Inwardly at least, Sharon had to smile as she rose from her chair, pausing at the door to glance back behind her. Where Julio Sanchez had once channelled his temper through his fists, now he just needed his eyes. Lethal weapons all on their own, that would keep this scum of the earth in line. As she left the room, though, all her thoughts turned to Buzz, and what she was about to ask him to do.

She knew he'd have been taken somewhere quiet, for him to face this discovery in private. And he'd have been taken there by the closest thing he now had to a father. Most likely her office, where this fateful journey had started, and - yes, there he was. Under Provenza's watchful eyes, he was sitting with his mother, putting all his own pain aside to comfort her, and now following Provenza's giveaway glance as she entered her office.

As always, everything he had to say in return wrote itself across his face, its relief and gratitude at least easing some of her concern as she closed the door behind her.

Twenty eight years earlier, she'd had to deliver the message that every police officer dreaded. The one that could shatter the happiest of families Now, it seemed like fate had chosen her to bring this family's nightmare to its first stage of closure.

"Buzz... Eleanor... I believe this belongs to you."

Taking it from her, Buzz studied his uncle's ring in a silence of mixed emotions, then glanced down at the one on his hand. Everything he'd seen that night - God, it felt like yesterday. And he'd dreamed of this moment for so long, he couldn't quite believe it was happening.

Gradually, though, he realized that it was. Its proof rested, solid and real in his hand. But it was its legal status that made him look up, and finally meet his Captain's eyes.

"Yes, Captain, it does. This ring belonged to my uncle, Captain Jonathan Watson."

In terms of arresting his killer, Jonathan Watson's case was now officially closed. But for the sister in law and nephew he'd left behind, it wasn't quite over yet. Just one last hurdle stood between them, and bringing at least half of their family's tragedy to an end. And in her determination to overcome it too, Eleanor Watson was every bit as brave as her son. As Buzz rose to his feet, so she did too - taking his arm on one side, and Provenza's on the other, as Sharon led them back to the Media Room.

By the time Mike Tao and Amy Sykes joined them, it was standing room only. But just as it had been at this fateful day's start, Eleanor Watson sat at its front line - holding her son's hand, while Sharon said the words they'd waited almost thirty years to hear.

"Buzz has identified his uncle's ring. We have him, Julio. Take him down."


End file.
